Harry Potter and the Unknown Fate
by MysteriousBleedingEyes
Summary: The gang has decided to return to Hogwarts for their 7th year. Things are different with the absence of Dumbledore. New mysteries come about, and revivals of old. Eventual H/Hr. Please don't bash. Thanks for reading.
1. Chapter 1:Classes

Disclaimer: All character and previous plots/basis belong solely to JK Rowling. Without her,  
>this amazing book series would not exist. Thanks to her.<p>

Chapter 1: Classes

This would be the last time that Harry, Ron and Hermione had a first day. They had hoped it might be a better one, but who can predict fate?

The ceiling of the Great Hall was not as it was on opening days of school; in fact, it was quite dark, cloudy, and very gloomy. Looking up at the table in the front of the hall, the majestic chair in the center stood vacant and lonely, much like the faces of students and professors.

The passing of Dumbledore was almost too much to handle. A few students had not returned to school because of this, distrusting the safety of Hogwarts, now that the Headmaster was gone.

A letter they had received from Professor McGonagall, and Mad-Eye Moody a few weeks before, assured them that certain unbreakable charms and enchantments of all sorts, were guarding the school. In addition, Quidditch would no longer occur due to dementors surrounding the school. However, all of these precautions, both Harry and Hermione felt, did not at all guarantee that Voldemort and his army would not be able to penetrate the spells. It was almost a sure bet that Voldemort was capable of the impossible.

Hermione stirred a spoon slowly around her porridge, barely hungry. She looked up from her class schedule and said nimbly, "Ready for your classes?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely." Harry said sarcastically. Hermione scowled at him.

"Hey." Ron, who was poking the bacon on his plate, looked at him. "Everyone knows what's going on. But we're here now. It's not her fault"

Harry looked at Hermione and reached for her hand across the table. "I'm sorry, Hermione. For everything. I'm sorry to both of you." He grabbed his textbooks and quickly strode out of the Great Hall, ignoring the calls from both Hermione and Ron.

"Where are you going?" Hermione stood up and called after him.

Harry walked, as fast as his feet could carry him, before passing a teary-eyed Ginny in the hallway.

"Harry!" she ran into his arms and hugged him.

"What's wrong?" He stroked her hair.

"I...I don't know what to say, or do anymore. Just...be careful. I'm not sure I even feel safe here.." She looked at him.

He tilted her chin up at her, closed his eyes, and kissed her gently. "None of us do. I'll try. You can do me a favour by getting something to eat. You're positively pale."

She smiled feebly. 'Okay. See you later, in the Room of Requirement?"

"Huh?" For a moment, he forgotten what she meant..."Oh. Yes. Dumble...D-Dumbledore's Army. 8:00." He even had trouble saying his name. He remembered that last night, Hermione had bewitched tiny pieces of parchment with menda-ink, ink that only lasted for a certain duation of time, before the paper disintegrated into ash. She passed it out to all the members of the DA. She nodded and proceeded to the Great Hall. He turned around and headed straight for the clock tower at a brisk pace again, concentrated, not even hearing the footsteps behind him, following him.

He arrived at the clock tower menagerie and memories came flooding back to him. He felt light-headed for a moment, and sat at the fountain, looking at the cherubine statue atop it, now partially covered on its right side by moss.

"Harry James Potter." Hermione's voice said firmly. He looked up at her, slowly. Her eyes were serious, and full of intention. She was breathing heavily. He had not realised she had been following him.

"I'm sorry for being curt with you, Hermione. You don't deserve that. I know you're just...you're just being you, and by doing that, you want to help us along. I'm sorry."

"Harry, " she began, walking toward him, kicking some stones in the path. "I'm not mad at you. You've every right. What do you mean, sorry to both of us?" She demanded, standing in front of him now, crossing her arms.

"Hermione, it's all my fault." he said, looking down. "No one else is going to die because of me. It's my fault about Sirius, Cedric, Dumbledore-"

"Harry James Potter." She repeated as before, this time more severe, and he saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Don't you DARE blame yourself. It's not your fault. You never asked for this to happen. Do you hear me?" She stared at him now, a tear falling down her cheek. "We're all here now. That's it. We've all made the decision to come back. It's not your fault. Don't you ever say that." She sighed heavily again, and sat beside him on the fountain.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "Hermione." he took her hand. "Thank you." He looked at her face, wiping her tear away with the sleeve of his robe, and patted her arm. "For being an amazing person...an amazing friend."

She looked down at her shoes, and back up at him again. "You're welcome." She smiled lightly.

He looked up at the cloudy morning sky. Rain was sure to come.

"Hermione, do you remember that night? When we were here? With Sirius and Buckbeak." His green eyes glimmered a moment.

"Of course. That awful time-turner."

"It was your time turner that helped us go back and save Buckbeak. Sirius, too."

"How you play Quidditch, I'll never know. Flying is absolutely terrifying."

He laughed. "It's the feeling of ultimate freedom. Amazing, to be in the air. Go anywhere."

She smiled back at him. "Well, I'm going to head to charms. Are you coming?"

"Yeah." He nodded, and he took one more glance up at the cloudy sky.

He could see dementors about a quarter mile up in the sky. They had already decided upon the return to Hogwarts. If the war was coming, and, at any unknown moment, he had better be as prepared as humanly possibly. He was positive, that, if not at least for a bit of training in Occlumency, Voldemort would  
>be able to track his every move and every word. He threw a rusty-looking knut into the fountain and followed Hermione back into the stone corridors towards their classroom.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2: Charmed

Disclaimer:  
>Chapter 2:<span>Charmed<span>

"...I thought it was alright," Hermione said, her usual, confident self, after coming out of the Potions classroom. They had just written essays on developments in invisibility potions.

A few weeks had passed since the start of classes, with no real danger in sight-but Harry was not comforted by this fact. Care of Magical Creatures was even moved into a large section in the dungeon, due to the restriction in outdoors time.  
>Harry, in fact, he was rather suspicious that they had not heard a thing. The Daily Prophet bore no stories, just the same wanted ads; not even Rita Skeeter had anything to write about. He was not relaxed at all. No Voldemort or any Death Eaters in sight didn't necessarily mean they weren't coming at all-or rather, soon. He proceeded to walk up the dungeon stairs with Ron and Hermione.<p>

"Alright? I'd rather wear dress robes!" Ron scowled. He put an arm around Hermione. "Of course it was fine for you. You know everything." He kissed her on the cheek. "At least she doesn't seem as strict as...you know. _Him._" Ron looked down, refusing to speak the name of what he called "world's greatest betrayer".

Since the death of Dumbledore, no one, not a soul, had seen Severus Snape. Harry would have gone to Azkaban for using the almighty Unforgivable Curse if he even saw him at all. If he was with Voldemort and returned to the Death Eaters, so be it.

The trio made their way toward the Great Hall for lunch. After lunch, it was Divination for Ron and Harry, and Hermione tutored students in the library for Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts. It was a good idea that students other than the three of them grew prepared; they had only spoke to a select few about Dumbledore's Army, hoping to acquire new members. These days, they were unsure of whom they could trust.

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, where Malfoy had used to sit, and at the seat now occupied by their new Potions professor, Madame Marona Noxford, on the left side of the professors' table. Trust was not a solid word in any sense. You could look a man in the eye for years, lying to to him, having him fooled forever.

"Honestly, do you think Divination will really help you, in any case?" Hermione looked up from her salad. "I know you think all of this is useful, but for once, I just, can't see how..."

Harry took a gulp of pumpkin juice. "Hermione, I want every bit of knowledge I can aquire. Even it if means taking something you find useful." He said flatly. "You, of all people would think no knowledge is useless." He raised his eyebrows at her.

She flushed lightly. "Although this is true, I just don't see what class that ultimately comes down to fortune-telling could really help. You can't accurately predict what Voldemort-" Ron cringed.  
>"Really, Ron? It's out in the open now, what does it matter?" She scolded. "Sorry," she said after a moment. She patted his leg.<br>"Anyway, Harry. While I agree that no knowledge is useless, Divination class is ulitimately...like having a mock psychic for a professor. I-"

"Hermione." Harry spoke over her, putting his fork down. "You said this when we compared all of our schedules a few weeks ago."

She sighed, exasperated, knowing that she in fact, had given them the same lecture. "If it helps you feel all the more ready, by all means."

"You might think it inaccurate, but you never know." Ron said, through a mouthful of potatoes. "We know it might just be a fortune-telling of sorts, but you never know what signs point to, or if it could help us track down signs."

"I'm just saying that _their_ moves are unpredictable. I don't doubt that they probably have spells we don't even know about that could surpass even the Unforgivables."

"You're not wrong in saying that," Harry said. "But we're still taking Divination." Ron nodded in agreement. "I promise you, it's not taking away our attentions from Dumbledore's Army or Defense Against the Dark Arts, at all."

The discussion had ended right then and there. Hermione felt slightly defeated. Personally, she had felt Harry and Ron were both wasting their time with something  
>so trivial as Divination. But their defense spells, especially Harry's, were incredibly strong already.<br>_"How on earth can reading tea leaves and incense clouds help us track Voldemort's moves?" _She thought. But really, it was all up to Harry. She didn't hesitate for a moment to admit he knew more confidently what he was doing, more than her, and she admitted this to him fully. No textbook she had ever read, could aid or teach someone instinct.

An hour later, Harry and Ron were sitting on squishy beanbags in the dark, decorated room of their Divinations classroom, while Hermione took a few students into an empty classroom on the first floor to strengthen their basic transfiguration spells.

"...and that was when Diagon Alley opened Ursula's Fabulous Fortunes..." Professor Trelawney said over her spectacles, sounding like her usual dreamy self, but weary.

Today's lesson would be using crystal globes. Professor Trelawney explained that the muggles who professed to psychics used similar things. crystal balls, but she believed they were all complete scandals of robbery. With the proper concentration, they were to look into the crystal globes and partially see what some of their destinies would be.

"Class, we're going to begin. Clear your minds..." She said, as usual. "Hover your hands on either side of the globe and stare directly into it. I'm now going to light incense of elderflowers, which will quiet the atmospheric spirits, and call to us our inner selves."

Emerald green and magenta smoke lightly filled the room, surrounding the students in the Divination classroom.

"Now, the further you concentrate, the more you will be able to see. The images should be coming into picture now. Some of them might be audible, but no worries, no one else can hear your fates, just you. " She coughed slightly, and leered around the classroom, hunched over, her face just visible through the hues of smoke.

Harry looked at his crystal ball; a silver orb appeared and began to swirl inside it, almost similar to what he had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. The first images began. A moment later, he found himself sucked into a bird's eye view of the unoccurred; it was almost like what happened when he was able to read Voldemort's diary when he was trying to uncover mysteries regarding the Chamber of Secrets.

The first image he saw, he recognised. It was on the high floor of the Department of Mysteries. He could see the broken glass windows. It was clearly nighttime.  
><em>"Are you ready to meet your fate, Potter?" <em>Voldemort's voice came eerily. He rounded the corner with his wand ready.

_"It's both of our fates, Riddle._" Red and green light emerged from their wands.

The image swirled again, and Harry found himself sucked into another image, this time, loud cheering and yelling, and on the massive field of the Quidditch Pitch. He saw himself flying on a Thunderbolt 7 broomstick, while Ron held keeper at the goal.  
><em>"Let's hear it for our heroes and graduating 7th years, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley!" <em>Lee Jordan yelled over the loud cheering of the students in the posts.

The image swirled once more, this time it was a turquoise colour. Harry heard the music of the Weird Sisters and saw himself in what looked like a grand ballroom. He was wearing dark dress robes, and the room was adorned silver and scarlet decorations.

It appeared to be some sort of party or celebration. He scanned the room, and saw Hermione wearing a gown of ruby colour, her curly hair styled elaborately in a bun. She was stunning. He saw Ginny dancing, in a royal, whie, wedding-looking gown. She looked gorgeous, and Harry assumed he was seeing what would be their wedding reception someday. He scanned the room and saw Ron, dressed in royal blue robes, speaking to Dean Thomas in the corner, by the sign-in table. To his surprise, he saw himself walking to where Hermione was sitting. She looked dreamy-eyed at the dancing crowd. Why wasn't she dancing with Ron?  
><em>"Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?"<em>

_"When you picked me up, Harry." _He brushed a curl from her face and sat down, facing her.  
><em><br>"I love you, Hermione. We've come such a long way. It's hard to believe." _She smiled at him and looked at him, her hazel eyes sparkling.__

_"Yes, we have."_

_"I've been an idiot. I can't live without you. You were always there. You're my best friend, Hermione." _Harry stared down at his future self curiously, lost for words. He saw him kiss Hermione gently, before pulling a small velvet box out of his left inner pocket.

Harry then had a sensation of flying, as if he was traveling via fireplace with floo powder, before then tumbling backward off the bean bag chair. He was back in the Divination classroom. He looked around; no one had noticed, but some students, including Ron, were rubbing their temples as if they had a bad headache. The smoke had disappeared from the classroom.

Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, feeling even more confused than the time Hermione had read him a passage about locking charms using muggle arithmetic... Hermione?

Hermione.


	3. Chapter 3: Restless

Disclaimer: All character and previous plots/basis belong solely to JK Rowling. Without her, this amazing book series would not exist. Thanks to her.

Chapter 3: Restless

_"...I love you, Hermione..." _He kissed her.

That night, Harry lie awake in his dorm; the curtains from his four-poster bed were drawn, and he stared aimlessly into the moonless sky. The moment kept replaying in his head.

Harry had sat blank through the rest of his classes after Divination. Even at dinnertime, he had skipped his stop at the Great Hall and told Ron and Ginny (both of whom he could barely stare in the eyes) that he had been feeling sick. Feeling guilty, he assured himself that it wasn't a complete lie; the last thing he was thinking about was food. He even tried to take his mind off by reading about his favourite team, the Chudley Cannons. Taking his Thunderbolt 7 out for  
>a ride was simply out of the question nowadays.<p>

It wasn't that thinking about being with Hermione made him feel sick; in fact, it was quite the contrary. The idea had never quite occurred to him, but the moments in which he was not being so thick made him realise the presence of Hermione in his life not just a best friend who was a girl, but the presence of Hermione as a life-long companion. In fact, Harry was willing to bet that he was first to truly see Hermione as a girl, not Ron. Hermione had always been beautiful,  
>but it was times in which she would be close to him, or he would watch her from afar simply reading or nibbling on her quill as she did homework, that he saw beauty; it was unabashed and needed no help at all. Her eyes sparkled, and she was positively glowing in her most proud, passionate moments.<p>

It was just a silly crystal globe, right? Hermione herself had said that everything Trelawney does was complete rubbish. Despite his earlier debate with her over Ron and him taking the class at all, he wanted to force himself to think she was right about it. He was willing to bet she was right on everything, except maybe her perhaps matters of Quidditch or Wizard Chess...then again, Hermione was full of surprises.

So going with the idea that she was right about Divination, it was just a crystal globe. It wasn't full-proof, it wasn't guaranteed, and how could a silly little rock tell your absolute destiny? The other things, he could see happening for sure-the battle with Voldemort, and graduating from Hogwarts. How could a piece of rock tell him what his future would be?

Except for a few arguments, he was relatively happy with Ginny. She was supportive, caring, and kind. At the current moment, he could not really remember how they came together in the first place. What was it exactly about her that struck him, that Hermione didn't have?

_No way, Harry. Do NOT go there. NO. Everything's great with Ginny. She's your best friend's sister. She's really great, caring, beautiful, helpful. _

He buried his face in the pillow and groaned. A knock came at the door, thankfully, interrupting his thoughts.

"Harry?" It was Ginny. "Are you alright? May I come in?"

"Sure."

She came in, the door creaking. "Are you feeling alright? How are you?" She sat beside him and stroked his face, then pushing the hair away from his scar, she  
>placed her hand on his forehead, as if to feel his temperature. "You feel a bit clammy."<p>

"I'm fine, " he lied, not looking at her directly. "Thanks for coming to check on me." His mouth turned up in a smile for a moment.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?" She laughed, but "Look at me." She sensed his uneasiness.

He looked at her, her deep eyes filled with concern. She sighed. "What's wrong?" She asked, sounding serious now.

"I'm just thinking about a lot of stuff, is all. About coming back to school this year." He breathed deeply. "I have a bit of stomach ache, mainly."

She seemed to believe him. "We're all going to be alright. We're ready, I think. Do you want me to make you some tea? Or have the elves send you something up?"

"Um, no, I'll be fine, thank you, Ginny. I just need some rest." She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Owl me if you want to talk." She rose and left the door open a crack, and he listened, hearing her footsteps descend the stairs.

A few minutes later, another knock came at his door. "Ginny, I'm really tired-"

"Harry, it's me." Hermione called. He was mildly surprised and also a little embarassed. His pajamas were comfortable, but ratty. He hadn't really bothered to purchase any new sleeping clothes, since he didn't really wear them anywhere but to bed. He ruffled a hand through his hair and muttered a charm to mend the hole in his thermal.

"Come in." He got up and sat ont he ledge of his window.

"How do you feel? We missed you at dinner tonight. Ginny mentioned you were feeling under the weather." She walked over to him and sat on his bed, facing him, wearing a pink bathrobe and a messy ponytail.

"I'm just...thinking is all. I have a bit of a stomach ache." If there was one person he REALLY could not lie to, it was Hermione. He didn't like lying to her, but even if he should, it was really useless. She could read him like a book, and could see through anything.

She looked at him seriously and pouted. "What's wrong? I know it's not just that."

Point proven.

"I'm just..." he fumbled through his thoughts. He absolutely could NOT tell her about Divination, but he had to sound believable. "I'm worried about..." he swallowed hard. "Do you think we can look up more spells in the library? I'm sure there's more we don't know about...in the restricted section. That could help us." This was not necessarily untrue; he did often wonder if there were better, stronger spells that were unknown even to Hermione.

"Oh." She smiled. "You should have said something." Her interest in anything literary and knowledge related brought that spark to her eyes. Harry was momentarily relieved.

She scowled slightly. "Harry, I don't think we can visit the restricted section of the library."

"Hermione, we must have something. Don't we have Head Student priveleges now? So why wouldn't we able to?"

She groaned. "Given the way I am, don't you think I would have asked about that already?"

"I think you should talk to McGonagall. I'm sure she would grant us access to those books if we told her what was going on. I'm sure she'd understand."

Hermione thought for a moment and bit her lip. "About the D.A.?"

"Why not? Actually, I think she'd think we were honouring him. And don't take this the wrong way, Hermione." He took her hand. "You're the brightest witch I know, god knows that. You've used spells to save me numerous time. But I think there are things in there even you might not know about."

She smiled and flushed modestly to his compliments. "No, you're absolutely right about that. How about we go speak to her tomorrow?"

"Definitely." He smiled at her, stroking her hand again before letting it go.

"Okay." She nodded. "And your stomach?"

"I think I'll be alright."

She got up and shook her hand, before holding out her left hand and waving her wand. A cup of light purple liquid appeared in a clear goblet before his eyes.  
>"What's that?"<p>

"Gooseberry nectar, cherry juice, aloe flower, and ginger root." She handed it to him. "Sure to settle any nervous stomach." She smiled.

"Thanks Hermione. You're amazing." He grinned at her.

"It's just herbs. But thank you. Good night, Harry." She kissed his forhead and turned to leave.

Hopefully, whatever the brightest witch he knew conjured up would give him a restful night, with dreams he could not remember, and thoughtless rest.


	4. Chapter 4: Window to the Past

Chapter 4: A Window to the Past

Some time had passed by since the incident in Divination. Harry and Hermione, were, in fact, granted access to the restricted section of the library. McGonagall seemed to think the persistence of Dumbledore's Army paid homage to him; she was genuinely grateful of the idea. All of their spells were stronger than ever. Still, nothing was full-proof enough to say that they were completely ready if they were suddenly surrounded by Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

It was a few days after Halloween. Luckily, nothing had really happened since that day. However, there were times which Harry's thoughts crept on him, and in stolen moments, sometimes even during mealtimes when they were all there, he found his eyes curiously darting to Hermione's lips; he had never before noticed how supple and rosy they were, how he delighted when the corners of her mouth turned up in bright smile, even how she pouted as she scowled.

Of course, thinking about how Hermione's lips appeared forced him to internally groan and try to place correcting-tape over the moment, but like it was written in pen, correcting tape only covered the mistake. Underneath, the mark was still there. Life continued on as it had; things were going well with Ginny, but he had not told a soul about this incident, not even Ron, and especially not Hermione. Hermione had already thought Divination was rubbish, and wouldn't give thought to the matter, whereas Ron's jealousy issues was not a fire that need be lit. He had already thought something had occured between them in the past; the last thing he needed was to think Harry even thought of Hermione in those ways.

After breakfast, Harry returned to the foyer once more, as he had the morning of their first day of classes. It was unusually cold for the beginning of November, so cold that he could see his breath as he exhaled. The clouds appeared to threaten with snow. Curled up dry leaves were on the top of the cherub fountain now, water no longer in it. This was about as outside as any of the students were allowed, as far as they knew.

"Hey, Harry. You're going to be late." Ginny came from round the corner. Sensing the brisk air, she pulled her cloak closer and tightened the scarf about her neck.

She tilted her chip up at him, and he hugged her close, rubbing her arms to warm her.  
>"I certainly hope you have some Halloween candy left. I quite like the way Hogwarts makes their toffees."<p>

"I do. And I agree with you there. Perhaps even better than Honeydukes."

She playfully scowled at him. "Never."

He sighed, gazing up at the cloudy sky. "I miss Quidditch."

"I don't doubt it." She looked at him apologetically.

"Maybe not even Quidditch...but flying, at least. The feeling of complete freedom. Being able to soar through the air. Something I know I can control..."

"You will be able to soon. Just not now." She ran a cool had through his messy hair and stroked his face. With that, he nodded at her before they went back into Hogwarts.

"Very good, students, now. You've the weekend to keep practising and reviewing everything we just learned. Rehearsal is very important. Not just to be able to remember, but to strengthen your spells as well. A weak spell is of no help to you. See you all Monday." Hermione said to her small class of students, eager to receive her help. She brandished her wand and put it in the pocket of her robe.

The last student to leave the room was Ella Mason, a second year Hufflepuff who very much reminded Hermione of herself, except, she actually had jet black  
>hair like Harry.; she was usually last to leave, always taking a final review of all her notes, but she was always first to arrive. Hermione smiled at her as she left.<p>

She began to walk back to the Head dormitories when she suddenly found herself inclined to head to the Astronomy Tower. Despite this afternoon, it was a crisp, clear night, probably one of the few in which she might steal a chance to see the moon, tonight at its fullest, with stars twinkling in the deep night sky. She pulled the hood of her cloak and her scarf over her.

She descended the steps toward the great tower, anxious to make the time; it was nearly 10:00. She didn't realise how late she had kept her students. If she was much later, Harry usually came looking for her in her classroom.

In another corridor on the right of the stairs, she noticed a light coming from one of the empty rooms. Curiosity grabbed a hold of Hermione as usual, and she decided to check out what it was. Foolish as it was to travel dark corridors alone, she was postitive it wouldn't be anything dangerous, and she was right.

Inside the open stone room, stood a grand, golden-framed mirror. The room was void of anything else but the mirror. "This must be the Mirror of Erised." She got closer and marveled at it; it had latin writings all along the border. Swallowing hard, she stood before it, and waited for what she might see.

She was herself dressed in business-like attire, with a badge she recognised belonging to the Ministry of Magic; the Hermione in the mirror flipped around her clipboard, with a paper indicating work for the Protection of House Elves and Wizard-Muggle relations.

Hermione smiled; she didn't believe in the prediction of fate, but this was somehow different. The mirror was supposed to reflected your innermost desires, as long as they were not malevolent in nature. She remembered Harry telling her about it after the incident with the Philosopher's Stone in their first year; Quirrell could not retrieve the stone from the mirror, because he was to use it for his own harmful benefits.

Hermione smiled again, seeing herself. She was successful and working for causes she was passionate about in the Ministry of Magic. Suddenly, Harry, who looked a few years older and dressed in a suit marked with an Auror Patch, came into the mirror and put a loving arm around Hermione. She gave a startled gasp as she felt a warm presence about her right shoulder, the one in the mirror. Reaching to touch his hand, she realised it was simply an illusion; no one was there but her.

She stared closer to see what they were both wearing rings on their left hands, before the mirror version of Harry kissed her cheek affectionately and nuzzled her hair, wearing a wide and proud smile. She was confused; were they together? Could she talk to them?

"Harry?" She reached out to the mirror. The mirror version of Harry looked at her hand, before taking the ring hand of the mirror of her, and holding it out. This was not all; a small girl, who looked like she was no more than 8 years old, came into the mirror last and stood in front of Harry and Hermione. Hermione gasped quietly in surprise once more; she was, undoubtedly, their daughter. She had thick, wavy brown hair, like Hermione, but stared out to her with bright green eyes.

Hermione turned away, her knees collapsing onto the stone floor, unsure of what to make of it. The mirror was supposed to reveal to you your inner most desires and forthcomings. What did it mean? She was sure of the fate of her career, but did her inner self wish to be with Harry, and be a family with him, and not Ron? That her innermost self was in love with her best friend?

It was all too much to process, even for Hermione Granger.


End file.
